


New Kids At The P*lace

by GE72



Category: Kids Incorporated
Genre: Gen, Reboot, Sequel, new characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 20:57:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13326219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GE72/pseuds/GE72
Summary: A group of kids get together to form a band, and want to play at an old theater that used to be a teen hangout. But there's a problem with the owner of the place, who wants nothing to do with kids.It's a new bunch of Kids, with a little help from some former Kids.





	1. Chapter 1

ONE

Kelly Thompson stood outside The Palace Theatre as she looked at the sign in one of the front windows. CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS. OPEN AGAIN SOON.

She took a couple of steps back and admired the regalness of the majestic theatre and concert hall. She knew about the history of the place, about how it was a concert hall as far back as the 1940’s, and that some of rock and roll’s biggest names played there since the 1950’s. Back in 1994 the Palace Theater was gutted in a fire. It had been rebuilt, and changed hands of ownership many times. It was now some kind of combination ice cream parlor and teen hangout, kind of like it was back before the fire.

One day, she thought, maybe I can perform here.

“Hey Kelly!” someone called out to her.

Kelly looked to see who was calling for her. It was Matt Gibson, lugging a book bag on his back and his guitar case in his right hand.

“What’s up Matt?” she asked her friend.

“Not much,” Matt said. He didn’t sound enthused saying it.

“How did your tryout go?”

“Not good,” he said. “I didn’t get in.” Matt had been trying out for a rock band in the neighborhood.

“Oh, well, maybe next time,” Kelly said.

“I thought I knocked them dead,” Matt said. “I’m the best guitar player in the area. At least for my age.”

“This band you tried out for,” Kelly said, “who did they take?”

“Don’t know his name. But he was pretty good. I thought I was better.”

“Was he older than you?”

Matt nodded reluctantly. “Sixteen, maybe seventeen.”

“And you’re fourteen.” Ageism was definitely in effect.

Matt looked up at the marquee of The Palace theatre. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Just looking, that’s all,” Kelly replied. “I told you my mom used to hang around here a lot.”

“Always,” Matt said. “And she met your dad here when they were just kids.”

“They were friends with some others who were in a band. The band played here a lot.”

“And the band were kids their age,” Matt finished. “I know the story too. You told it to me lots of times.”

“I can’t get over it. A rock band made up of junior high kids, even elementary kids. And they were good.”

“Those were the days.”

The two of them began to walk down the street away from The Palace.

Kelly suddenly said, “I got an idea. How about you and me start our own band?”

“Not exactly an original idea.”

“Oh, come on. What’s the harm in that? You play the guitar, I’ll sing.”

Matt stopped in his tracks. “You’ll sing?”

Kelly stopped and looked at him. “What’s wrong with that?”

Matt pondered that thought. He knew Kelly could sing. She wasn’t Taylor Swift, but she wasn’t some American Idol reject either. The fact that she was beautiful for a fourteen-year old didn’t hurt either.

And Kelly knew Matt could play the guitar since he was seven; he was a natural at it. Plus, he was good with words, as evidenced by his grades in English class.

“I don’t know Kelly,” Matt said. “It could be a great idea.”

“Could be? Why not ‘can be’?”

“People can be picky about their music today,” Matt said. “When my folks were growing up, it was a different time back then. Everyone had a choice of what music they liked and they were never wrong. There was no bad music back then. Today, one bad choice and your band goes down the drain.”

Kelly gave that some thought. For someone who was fourteen, Matt was very into sociological trends.

“Okay, if it will make you feel any better,” she said, “we’ll play nothing but oldies. Stuff from the 1980’s. Maybe some 1990’s.”

Matt added, “And nothing out of Justin Beiber’s mouth.”

“Agreed.” Kelly didn’t like Justin Beiber either. One Direction, was another matter entirely.

“I’ll think about it,” Matt said. 

“That’s all I can ask.”

“Why do you want to do this anyway?” Matt asked.

Kelly said, “I know you want to play that guitar in front of an audience. This would be a great opportunity. And I like to sing.” Kelly was not some talented but clueless kid that seemed to populate the musical landscape these days. 

“But it can’t be just us up on that stage,” Matt said. 

“I know. I’ll ask around, see if anybody else is interested. I’ll see you around.” Kelly waved good bye and walked away, presumably headed home.

Matt watched as she walked away. He knew that sometimes Kelly could get these ideas and try to make them work. When they were ten years old, Kelly made some calls to get Bruno Mars to perform at their school. She didn’t make contact with the pop star, but was politely told no – and to never contact him again by his handlers. Another time, she waited outside the backstage door at the Great Western Forum to talk with Taylor Swift. The superstar never showed, as she ducked out another exit.

Maybe it could work, Matt thought, this being in their own band. Or maybe Kelly had bit off more than she could handle. Or maybe Kelly really was nuts.

Matt headed for home, leaving the renovated Palace Theater behind him.

 

Back home, Kelly pulled out an old scrapbook from under her bed. The scrapbook used to belong to her mother when she was twelve years old. 

The scrapbook was full of photos and momentos from the mid-1980’s, collected by her mom of her favorite musical group back then. It wasn’t Duran Duran – her mom had a separate scrapbook for that – but of that rock band made up of junior high and elementary age kids.

The name of the band was across the front cover: Kids Incorporated. 

How many kids could say they went to school with a bonafide singer and hung out with them on a regular basis? Aside from those who knew Debbie Gibson or Taylor Swift in school when they were growing up.

Kelly looked through the photos and other memorabilia. There was a photo of her mom with two of the group, Renee and Stacy – they were sisters – after a show. Another had her sitting with Ryan at The P*lace between gigs. Her mom had quite a number of pics with Ryan, the guitar player for the group. Her mom had admitted she liked Ryan, just like her father had a crush on Renee at the same time. Both her parents had met at The P*lace while watching the band, so in a way, the band brought her parents together. Her father’s best friend, Jules, ended up dating Renee, and eventually married her, after Renee came back from England for an extended period of time.

She went through some other photos and memorabilia. There was a photo of her mom with Gloria, the best singer of the group, supposedly at her last performance before Gloria took off for some fancy music school. There was one of her mom and dad with the one they called The Kid – his real name was Rahsaan – outside The P*lace. Talk was that Rahsaan had a huge but harmless ego and was always able to nail a song.

There was an old news clipping of how the band helped the police out in a local counterfeiting ring, and another clipping advertising a New Year’s Eve show by the band. There was an 8x11 copy of a photo of the band and their backup musicians and dancers from 1985 in front of a neon sign with their name on it. One of them, the drummer, was now the wrestling coach at the high school.

There was so much in the scrapbook, but Kelly had been through it all before. She closed it and put it back under her bed.

Kelly lay down on her bed. Why start up a band? Why not? Kelly liked to perform, as she had been in a couple of productions of the local children's theatre. Last year, Kelly was part of a talent show, and she had the biggest applause of the night with her rendition of "White Horse." 

So why start up a band? she asked herself. Maybe there was no good reason at all. Maybe it was about time.

Maybe.....they could be their own version of Kids Incorporated…


	2. Chapter 2

TWO

The next day at school, Kelly casually posed the question of being in a band to some of her classmates. The reactions ranged from “Sounds good” to “I don’t know” to a couple of “Are you out of your mind?” and “How much does it pay?”

At lunch hour, Kelly sat down on a bench with her homework in her hand. She looked over a couple of algebra problems when someone said, “Hi Kelly. Do you mind?”

Kelly looked up. It was Tiffany Morris, one of her friends. “Go ahead,” Kelly said. Tiffany sat down, with a lunch bag in her hand.

“I heard you’re trying to get a band together,” Tiffany said.

“You heard right,” Kelly said. 

“Any ideas on a name?” asked Tiffany.

“What name would you suggest?” 

“’The Young Ones’ sounds kind of cool.”

“I think that name was already taken.”

Tiffany reached into her lunch bag and pulled out a ham sandwich. “How about ‘Green Eggs and Ham’?”

“Also copyrighted.”

“’Rocky Road to Omaha’?”

“Someone tried something like that once,” Kelly said. “Didn’t go over too well. Besides, let’s get the band together first, then we’ll think of a name.”

Tiffany took a bite of her sandwich. “So how’s the search going anyway?”

“That depends,” Kelly said. “Do you want join? You can sing.”

Tiffany gave it a thought. Yes, Tiffany could sing. She was on a level with Kelly in terms of ability, though Tiffany was a year younger.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t think I’d be liked up there on stage.”

“Why not?”

Tiffany stood up. “If you recall, I’m not exactly the kind of girl most people would like to see on stage. I cast a bigger shadow than most everyone else.”

In other words, Tiffany was bigger. As in full figured. Or plus sized. Or to some mean people, just plain fat. Tiffany knew she was bigger, though not necessarily fat, just curvy, somewhere along the lines of Adele or Meghan Trainor. Usually, she didn’t care about it if you called her fat. But then, sometimes calling her the f-word was putting your own life at risk. Once, a girl mercilessly teased Tiffany about being overweight, until one day on the playground, Tiffany had enough. By the time the teachers got to them, Tiffany was literally sitting on the mean girl, eating the other girl’s lunch of a salad. Tiffany had stuffed her own lunch of a salami sandwich into the other girl’s mouth.

“All they’ll care about is your voice,” said Kelly. “Who cares about your size?”

“People who can’t stand Adele,” Tiffany pointed out as she sat back down. “People who think that all singers should look like Miley or Ariana.”

“That’s their problem, not yours.”

“Well, can I at least think about it?”

“That’s all I can ask.”

“That’s the closing?” Tiffany asked. “‘That’s all I can ask?’ You wouldn’t make it in the business world.”

“I’m not making it in the business world. I’m trying to make a band to play at The P*lace.”

 

Meanwhile, inside the school, Matt was passing by the band room when he heard music emanating from inside. Usually, that was no big deal; music was always coming out of there. But it was the lunch hour, and nobody was supposed to be inside there at that time.

Matt opened the door and looked inside. There was a piano against the far wall, and someone was playing Chopin on it.

He quietly walked in as the music played. The piano player was African-American and looked about thirteen years old. He listened to the music, and it sounded like the player was a prodigy.

When the song was done, Matt quietly applauded. The piano player looked up at Matt.

“You sound good,” Matt said.

“Thanks,” he said. 

“Are you new here? I don’t remember seeing you around here.”

“I moved to town a couple of days ago. I’m Ricky Randall.”

“Matt Gibson.” The two shook hands. “Where’d you learn to play?”

“Germany. My dad was stationed over there with the Army for a couple of years. Had a piano teacher on the base in Stuttgart. Do you play?”

“A little on the piano. Mostly guitar.”

“I play some guitar too,” Ricky said. “Hendrix, I’m not, but I can carry along a riff or two.”

“Is there any instrument you can’t play?”

“Probably not, but I haven’t played them all yet. Give me time, I can learn it.” He stood up from the piano stool. “Hey, I heard this girl is trying to get a band together. What do you know about it?”

“I know she’s determined to get one together,” Matt said. “She can be like that.”

“Good or bad?”

A teacher came into the music room. “Are you done in here?” he asked.

“I am, Mr. Ford,” Ricky replied, getting up from the piano. “Thanks for letting me use the piano. Just brushing up.”

Mr. Ford was the school’s music teacher. He was African American, in his early forties, nicely dressed, with a few long dreads coming from his hair.

“Hey, Ricky, if you want to jam, we’ll set something up,” said Matt.

“Sounds good,” Ricky replied. “Maybe we can find out how good we are.” Ricky left the room. Matt was about to as well, when Mr. Ford stopped him.

“What’s going on? Are you guys trying to get a band together?” he asked.

“Me and Kelly Thompson,” Matt replied. “Know anybody who wants to be in a band?” 

“I’ll look around,” Mr. Ford said. “Just make sure they’re good.”

“We will.”

“You know, a band can show people how much music matters to them. Kids like you could show people today that they still care about music. Music influences generations and helps define them. That’s what my teacher, Mr. Brown, taught me when I was in school.”

“If that’s the case, then our generation has no definition,” Matt said.

“Then help find its place in history, find its definition,” Mr. Ford said. “Plus, you get to rock out on stage.” Then he added, “Girls go for that.”

Matt never really thought about that last part. Girls? If that’s what they go for….

“Thanks, Mr. Ford,” Matt said as he began to leave the room. Then, he turned back around and asked, “Were you in a band back in your younger days?”

“That’s how I know,” Mr. Ford said with a wry smile.


	3. Chapter 3

THREE  
Over the next couple of days, Kelly, Matt, Tiffany, and Ricky, came and went to and from school. On occasion they would see each other in their classes and in the halls. Rarely, if at all, did they bring up Kelly’s idea of putting a band together. to The Palace. Or if the marquee burned out again, The P*lace.

Over those two days, they each thought about her idea and what they could bring to the band.

So what could they bring?

First and foremost, they all could sing, to varying degrees. Not all of them were perfect, but none of them were tone deaf and in denial, either.

Plus they were each multifaceted. Matt could play guitar. Ricky could play piano, and if need be, guitar, as well as a saxophone or a trumpet. Tiffany could play a little bit of piano. Only Kelly was the only one who couldn’t play an instrument, but with a voice like hers, she didn’t need to. If it came down to it, Kelly could sit behind a piano and fake it. Just don’t ask her to play an extended solo.

Their styles were also different. Matt was a rocker, first and foremost. He was at home, playing his guitar as he sat on his bed. His guitar idols were Jimmy Page and John Mayer, though he thought the way that Mayer treated Natalie Portman was wrong. But even though he was a rocker at heart, he also liked other styles of music – R&B, country, folk – as long as it had a guitar playing. And no, he still wasn’t going to sing anything that came out of Justin Beiber’s mouth.

Ricky was the soul. He was in his bed at his family’s new home. Even though he lived on an U.S. army base in Germany for a while, he would listen to his father’s CD’s of old school R&B, from Earth Wind and Fire, to Lionel Richie, to Kool and The Gang, and he would pick up their vocal stylings in between piano lessons. And even though he listened to hip hop as well, his voice wasn’t suited to that style.

Tiffany had the power. She sat on her bed, her earphones plugged in as she listened to a Joss Stone CD. Such as the case when you’re bigger than most everyone else, she could hold a note as long as anyone else. But she also had the touch; as powerful as her voice was, she could land a note just as softly.

And of course, Kelly had....well....the drive. It was her idea to put a band together. She wanted everything to be right, and so far it was. She had asked all the people who she had thought would be interested, and even had one inquire if she was for real.

They were all thinking about it. All simultaneously, they all believed it could work.

The following day at school, Matt, Tiffany, and Ricky, all found Kelly.

“Hi guys what’s up?” she aksed.

“We’ve all come to a decision,” Matt said.

“And?”

They all smiled. “We’ll do it.”

Kelly jumped up. “Okay then! Let’s start rocking!”

 

After school, they met in the music room. Matt had his guitar, and Ricky got behind the piano. Matt started by playing a few riffs, and seeing if Kelly and Tiffany knew the words to the songs he played. Most of the songs he played, they did know the words. Ricky played a few bars to some songs he knew, and they all knew the words as well.

They played over the next hour inside the music room, figuring out which songs sounded good, or even great. When they were done, Kelly said, “We sound good, don’t we?”

“I agree,” Ricky said. “Especially me. But then again, I always sound good.”

“I think we sound great too,” Tiffany added.

Everyone was happy except Matt. “Something on your mind, Matt?” Kelly asked.

Matt shook his head. “I think we sound good,” he said. “But I know how we can sound better.”

“How is that?”

“How about a rhythm section? You know, a bass guitar and someone on drums.”

“Know where we can find a drummer?” Kelly asked.

“I’ll ask around,” Matt answered. 

“Ask away.”

“What about a bass player?" asked Matt.

"’l’ll look around," Kelly replied. 

Outside the door, while the kids had been jamming inside, Mr. Ford had been listening in for a few minutes, along with a visiting instructor from one of the private schools in Los Angeles. Both were impressed with the raw ability of the kids playing music and singing inside. The two of them had met at a teacher's conference and found out they had something in common, since the two of them had gone to the same school while growing up, albeit at different ages.

“Not bad,” the visiting instructor said, “for their first time together.”

“Was it anything like that when you started?” Mr. Ford asked.

“A little bit.” She listened a little more as the singing began again inside. “They never had impromptu jam sessions like this at Oxford.”

“They never had a band like the one we were in.”

“True.” They listened some more. The visiting teacher said, “My cousin Samantha could probably get them a little more refined.”

“Only time will tell,” Mr. Ford replied.

“Time always does,” she said. “You know, what if they became….Nah.”

“What?”

“Well, what if these kids became, you know….today’s version of Kids Incorporated?”

Mr. Ford thought about that, then said, “Like I said, Renee, only time will tell.”


	4. Chapter 4

FOUR

Matt asked around the neighborhood if anyone knew anyone who could play the drums. The answer was mostly yes. But they were also over the age of eighteen. The band need someone younger. 

Eventually, he heard of this young kid, around twelve years old, who liked to bang around on the drums. His named was Toby Miles, and he was very enthusiastic when he played.  
Matt got the address of where Toby lived and went over there. Most drummers practice their craft inside the garage, somewhere sound proofed away from the home, and away from the sensitive ears of their parents. And if the garage was separate from the main house, it was a win-win for everyone – except maybe the neighbors.

Matt opened the door to the garage, and there was Toby, banging away on his drum set. Neal Peart, he wasn’t. More closer to like Phil Ehart or Steve Smith.

When Toby stopped, Matt posed his question to him. “Would you like to join our band?” He explained the situation to him.

“What’s the catch?” Toby asked. 

“You’ll be at the back of stage. Your favorite place.”

“I like it. Just say when and where.”

“No definite date yet, but we’re having jam sessions over the next couple of days to get our sound right.”

“Band room at school?”

“There’s also a garage near The Palace theatre. We heard that place is available if we want to practice there, if we can.”

“Sounds good.”

Matt looked over the drum set. “Is this new?”

“Used. I traded my old kit in for another set. Mint condition for it being so old.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“Me and dad got it from a place in Malibu. Some guy brought it in earlier, saying he had to part with it. He had to make the sacrifice.”

“Lose-lose situation.”

“Besides, he already had another drum kit in his home.”

“Let’s go inside, we’ll talk a little more about the band.”

As Toby headed out of the garage, Matt glanced over his friends’ drum kit. He saw a name etched on one of the tom toms, probably the former owner. It read…..R. Shoff.

******************************* 

Kelly was walking past a coffee house when she heard a mellow jazz sound emanating from inside. She walked into the place and looked for where the sound was coming from.  
There was a boy, about thirteen or fourteen, plunking away on a bass guitar, on a platform. Three other musicians, all older, were playing the drums, piano, and a trumpet, respectively. The denizens listening to the music looked mellow, mellow to the point of being comatose, so that not even the strongest caffeinated coffee could wake them up.

When the music was over, Kelly walked over to the bass player. 

“Hi there,” she said. “How long have you been playing?”

“Just a couple of years,” he said. “I’m just sitting in for my older brother. Erik Thurman.” 

“I’m Kelly.” Quickly, she talked to Erik about her idea of getting a band together.

“You need someone like me?” he asked. 

“Choice is yours,” she replied. She knew bass guitarists were by nature, a quiet lot. They’re not shy, but they prefer to keep to themselves, in a good way. Erik seemed like he was such a guy.

“Really? Sounds great,” Erik said. He plunked a few more chords on his bass.

“So are you in?”

Erik looked around the place. “Well, wherever we play, it has to be more lively than this.”

Kelly looked around the coffeehouse. The denizens looked they had too much decaf in whatever coffee they were drinking.

“This joint’s for sale anyway,” Erik said. 

Kelly let Erik know when he could show up for rehearsals. Erik nodded his approval.

Kelly left the coffeehouse, glad to get away from this overly decaffeinated joint. As she left, Kelly noticed the “For Sale” sign up on a window, confirming what Erik had said.  
It had the name of the real estate company, with a number for the realtor. For more info, call Devyn…

******************************************

“Do you think we should have told Kelly about this?” Ricky asked. 

“I’m pretty sure she’ll be okay with this,” Tiffany replied as they walked up to the house.

On her own, Tiffany decided that the band could use a keyboard player. Though Ricky knew how to play piano as well as keyboards, the backup help would free up Ricky to sing more. Tiffany knew a girl who could fill the role.

“Who is this girl anyway?” Ricky asked.

“Her name is Molly,” Tiffany replied. “A piano prodigy. She can play the classics blindfolded.”

Tiffany and Ricky knocked on her door. Her mom answered the door.

“Hi Mrs. Choi,” Tiffany said. “Is Molly home?”

“Molly’s in the lab,” her mom said. “Who knows what’s she making down there.”

The lab was actually the basement of the Choi house. Tiffany and Ricky went downstairs, and found Molly there, doing her homework on her computer. In the lab also was a table full of vials and beakers like one would find in an actual laboratory. And as chance would have it, an electronic keyboard on a stand against the wall.

“You’re recruiting a nerd?” Ricky asked.

“Academic honor student,” Tiffany corrected. 

Molly looked up from her homework, a pair of wire rimmed glasses perched on her nose. “Did you know that Beethoven wrote his eighth symphony while he was completely deaf?” she asked.

“I knew that Mozart could play another song just on memory alone,” Ricky replied.

“Really?” Tiffany asked.

“Living in Germany, you pick up on little things like that.”

“What brings you here, Tiff?” Molly asked.

“When was the last time you played that keyboard?”

“Last night. I played Chopin. And mixed in a little Coldplay.”

“Can you do ‘Gangnam Style’ on that?”

“I did that last week. Why, what’s up?”

Tiffany told her of Kelly’s idea of putting a band together.

“Me? In a band?” said Molly. “I’ll have to ask my mom.”

The answer came quickly. “YES!” her mom yelled out from upstairs.

Tiffany and Ricky looked at Molly. “Apparently, she thinks you spend too much time down here,” Tiffany said. They told Molly where to be tomorrow and to bring her keyboard.  
Back upstairs, Mrs. Choi was waiting for Tiffany and Ricky. “Thank you for getting her out of the house,” she said.

“She hasn’t been out much, has she?” Ricky asked.

“I love that she has straight A’s,” Mrs. Choi said. “But I want her to have a social life too.”

“She has friends,” Tiffany pointed out.

“I know she does. And they all think I’m some kind of tiger mom who won’t let her have any kind of fun. Maybe this will help.”

“Couldn’t hurt,” Ricky added.

The phone rang. Tiffany and Ricky said good-bye as Mrs. Choi picked up the phone in the kitchen. Molly came in to get a cookie. 

“Hello…..oh, how are you doing?” Mrs. Choi said into the phone. “Things are going great….How’s the legal profession for you?....Guess what? A couple of kids just asked Molly to be in a band….That’s right, a band…..Is that so?..... Why do you ask, Connie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlike the original series, I'll give some lines to the backups.


	5. Chapter 5

FIVE

Over the next few days, the kids gathered in the music room at the school after classes, and tested out their sound. Songs ranging from classic rock to pop hits to neo soul emanated from the room after school. 

Some good, some bad, but to find their sound, they had to try out songs that from every genre imaginable. They played lots of oldies from the 1980’s, some hip hop, and even tried out a couple of country songs (“What do you mean Taylor Swift was a country singer?” Ricky asked at one point.) 

Students who passed by wondered what was going on inside, as they heard the music go from trying to decent to finally good. Practice, as they said, makes perfect. They grew to enjoy the music coming from inside, and wondered if they would ever perform it live.

The school’s music teacher, Mr. Ford, enjoyed the music coming out of the band room. It made him feel like had something to do with it, even though some of the kids in the band didn’t have him as a teacher. And in a way, he did.

So did the guy he had been texting about the band.

In one text, Mr.Ford said: “Ryan, they’re sounding great. They’ve been at it only a week, but it’s all coming together.”

Ryan replied: “Keep me informed. I see they’re putting the marquee back on The Palace. Would be great to see them play at The P lace.”

A text went to the private school teacher from Ryan: “Looks like these kids are about to become the new version of us.”

Meanwhile, Mr. Ford sent an e-mail to another friend: “Did you hear Haylie? Some kids are getting a band together. Do you still have stuff from before the fire? Reply when you can.”

A reply came back to the music teacher. “I still have it. Posters. Old flyers Me and Casey have been going through them. There was even a sign about winning a date with Renee. A couple of those kids I cared for at the day care. Would be awesome to see them when they get on stage.”

 

After a week of rehearsing, Kelly, Matt, Tiffany, and Ricky decided it was time to take their music to the masses. Or at least the students.

“Is this a good idea?” asked Matt as the band lugged their instruments and equipment out of the band room.

“They’re going to be our main audience,” Kelly said. “Who else could we play for?”

“Maybe we can call the judges from ‘America’s Got Talent’,” suggested Tiffany.

“What’s that?” Ricky asked.

They all looked at Ricky. “You couldn’t have been in Germany for that long,” Tiffany said back.

The band took their instruments and equipment outside to the school’s courtyard. School had just ended for the day, but some students were still hanging around. When they saw what the band was doing, they came over to get a closer look. 

Mr. Ford saw what was going on, and sent off a quick text. “Ryan, looks like the band is setting up for a jam session outside. Come on and take a look if you can. I’m in meetings.”

Soon, Molly had fired up her electronic keyboard, and Erik had plugged in his bass guitar to an amplifier. Matt plugged in his guitar to another amplifier. Toby rattled off a few quick beats on his drum set. Students began to gather around the band.

“Ready?” asked Kelly.

“Ready,” the rest of the band replied.

“Who wants to go first?” 

Matt raised his hand. “DMB, ‘Ants Marching.’”

And with that, the band started playing. Matt sang lead, while the rest of the gang jammed along to the Dave Matthews tune. The small crowd of students that had gathered around began to move along to the song. So what if it was made before they were born? It was still a great song.

When it was done, they all cheered modestly. A humble beginning, but still a beginning.

“How ‘bout something more upbeat?” suggested Tiffany.

“I got one,” Kelly said. She told the others what to play.

As the music started up, a man in a tie and suspenders came up to the crowd. It was Mr. Ford’s friend.

Kelly’s song choice was definitely upbeat – Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off.” Within the first few chords, the small crowd was jumping up and down to the song along with Kelly. Even the man was dancing around, even though he admittedly had no rhythm whatsoever.

As the Kids played, a pair of girls moved their way to the front of the crowd. One was blonde and green eyed, the other, a brunette haired Asian, most likely Filipino. The song approached the bridge, as Kelly did her best T.S.

_“Just think, while you’ve been getting down about the liars and dirty dirty cheats of the world/You could’ve been getting down to this…sick…beat…”_

The two girls jumped in on either side of Kelly and started dancing alongside her and mouthed the words of the next verse.

_“My ex-man brought his new girlfriend/She’s like Oh my God/But I’m just gonna shake it/ And to the fella over there with the hella good hair/Why don’t you come on over baby, we could shake shake shake!”_

Kelly looked on either side of her. If audience participation was what it took to build the brand, so be it. She continued to sing as the two girls danced alongside. 

The man watched, flashing back to his teenage years. He saw the two girls and they reminded him of another two girls named Andrea and Wendy dancing next to his friend Gloria.

The song ended and the crowd cheered louder than before. Smiles broke out amongst the band.

“They like us!” Tiffany beamed. “They really like us!”

The crowd began to disperse. Kelly stopped the two girls who had been dancing with her. “You two dance pretty good,” she said to them. “What are your names?”

“I’m Kimmie,” the blonde said. “Debbie,” the brunette said.

“If we ever get to do a show, you’re welcome to dance on stage with us if you want,” Kelly said.

“Serious?” Kimmie asked.

“Serious,” Kelly said back.

As Kelly talked with Kimmie and Debbie, the man walked up to Matt, Tiffany, and Ricky. “You kids sound great,” he told them.

“Thanks,” Ricky said. 

“What’s the name of your band?” 

“We don’t have a name yet,” Matt said. 

“Really?” 

“We’d haven’t thought of a name yet,” Tiffany said. “Kelly’s the driving force behind us.”

When Kelly was done talking with Kimmie and Debbie, she came over to the others. The man said to her “You sing great.”

“Thanks.”

“You kids need a name for your band?” he asked.

“You have one in mind?” Kelly replied.

The man replied, “How about Kids Incorporated?” 

The band just looked at him.

“Really?” Matt said. “Isn’t that, kind of like, copyright infringement?”

“I don’t think so,” the man said. “People will be glad to see that name back on the marquee at The P*lace.”

“Really?”

The man nodded. “See you kids soon,” he said, then turned and walked away. Kelly looked at him as walked off.

“I wonder who that guy was,” Tiffany said.

“He looks somewhat familiar,” Kelly said, as he watched the man reach into his pocket with his left hand as he walked away.

The man took out his iPhone and checked a new text.

The text said “Couldn’t see the band. How did they sound?”

He texted back, “They sounded great Ken. Their next stop is The P*lace.” He then sent another text: “I just gave them a name. They’re the new Kids Incorporated.”


	6. Chapter 6

SIX

“So, how was your little jam session yesterday?” Mr. Ford asked Matt and Ricky. They were in the band room during the lunch hour at school.

“It went pretty well,” Matt said. “The crowd liked us.”

“They really liked me,” Ricky said. “I already got a few phone numbers from some girls.”

“That’s a good sign,” Mr. Ford pointed out.

“Kelly even recruited a couple of other girls,” Matt added. He told them how Kelly asked Kimmie and Debbie to be their backup dancers if anything came of this.

“I know those two girls,” Mr.Ford said. “Kimmie Caldwell and Debbie Dixon. They’re practically inseparable. But I think you got a couple of good girls with you.”

“So, you think we can make it work?” asked Matt. 

“I don’t see why not.”

“We may even have a name. Some guy suggested we call ourselves Kids Incorporated.”

Mr. Ford’s eyebrows raised. “Really?”

“As long as there are no copyright problems,” Matt said.

“I don’t have a problem,” Mr. Ford replied.

“About this band, Kids Incorporated,” said Ricky. “Being the new kid in town, I’m not up on the history. Just how big were they back in the day? And what about The Place?”

“They were the coolest kids in school,” Mr. Ford said. “And The P*lace was the place to be after school and on weekends. They rocked it every day they played.”

“I bet they did,” Ricky said. “And I bet you were there a few times.”

“I was there all the time.”

“Really?” asked Matt.

Mr. Ford took out his cell phone and pulled up a digital photo. “Really.” He handed the phone over to Matt and Ricky.

The photo was of a little African American boy on stage, microphone in hand, singing out loud.

“That’s you?” asked Ricky. Mr. Ford nodded. That’s when it hit them. 

“You were in Kids Incorporated?!” exclaimed Matt.

“A long time ago,” Mr. Ford said. He held up one his dreads. “Way before these.”

To say Matt and Ricky were surprised to say the least. “Who else knows about you being in Kids Inc.?”

“Oh, a lot of people,” Mr. Ford said, taking the phone back. “But that was a long time ago. Little ol’ Kenny is all grown up. I don’t bring it up, but if people ask, I tell them. I just don’t make a big deal about it.”

“To us, it’s a big deal,” Matt said, handing back the phone. “What was it like? I mean, for you being up on that stage.”

“Best feeling in the world,” Mr. Ford replied. “That’s what I told my music teacher, Mr. Brown. He’s the reason I became a music teacher. He taught me how to embrace music and use it to reach other people. Like you kids did yesterday at your jam session in front of the school. You got the word out.”

“Is the rest of the band still in town?” Matt asked.

“Not all of us,” Mr. Ford replied. “Me and my friend Devyn came into replace a couple of people. There was me, Devyn, Connie, Richie, Ryan, and Stacy, at the time.”

“Where are they now?” asked Ricky.

“Well, Devyn lives out in the valley, works in real estate. Richie works for one of casinos up in Las Vegas. Connie is a lawyer. And Ryan works for the newspaper here in town. In fact, he watched a little of your jam session.” 

“Really?” Matt said.

Mr. Ford – Kenny – showed them another photo on his phone. “That’s us,” he said. It was of the band, six of them at the time. They were all wearing denim outfits. Matt spotted Ryan, playing the guitar left handed. Ricky spotted Kenny in the photo.

“Are those jheri curls?” he asked.

“No, those aren’t jheri curls!” insisted Mr. Ford. Then in a calmer voice, he said, “But my ‘fro was shiny.”

*******************************************

“Mr. Ford was in this band, Kids Incorporated?” Tiffany asked. 

“I couldn’t believe it either,” Matt said.

“Depends on when you saw them,” Kelly said. “My parents saw them up until Stacy left.”

School had ended for the day. The four of them were walking to The Palace Theatre.

“So, what are we doing?” asked Ricky.

“I’m going to ask the owner or the manager of The Palace if we can play there,” Kelly replied. “He says yes, we’re in. Just that simple.”

“Famous last words,” Matt said.

“Must you be so cynical?”

“Just guarding myself against a letdown.”

“It’s The Palace,” Kelly said. “Why wouldn’t he let us in?” Matt wanted to say something, but Tiffany stopped him.

The group came upon The Palace. The neon marquee was all ready but not lit up.

“That’s not a good sign,” Matt said.

“It looks good to me,” Tiffany said.

“I don’t think that’s what he meant,” said Ricky.

They all walked up to the door. The sign about the renovations was still up. Kelly was about to reach for the handle, when it opened. A thirty-something man in wire rimmed glasses, his hair thinning, and an expensive suit stood in front of them.

“Who are you kids, and what do you want?” he asked in a not so polite manner.

“We’d like to speak with the owner or the manager,” Kelly asked in a very polite manner.

The man emphatically said, “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.”

“Can you think of a better reason?” Tiffany responded snarkily.

“How about this? I’m now running The Palace, and I’m going to do business the way I see fit. It’s going to be a club for adults over the age of twenty one. No one under twenty one allowed. That means you.”

“Are you always this polite to people?” Ricky asked.

“Just who’s idea was this?” asked Kelly.

“Mine,” he said. “Harold Dorn.”

Ricky stifled a chuckle. “Harold?”

That didn’t placate Harold Dorn whatsoever. “This is my business,” he insisted. “No kids are coming into the place ever again. Now GOODBYE!” With that, he shut the doors.


	7. Chapter 7

SEVEN

The Kids walked away from The Palace, somewhat stunned. Okay, maybe completely stunned. Not to mention a little PO’d at the rudeness of Harold Dorn, the manager of The Palace.

“What a jerk,” Ricky said.

“I second that,” Matt added.

“You could use stronger language,” Tiffany suggested.

“Any ideas?” Ricky asked.

Tiffany used a word that best described the backside of a donkey, which was blotted out by the honking horn of a passing car.

“Yep, that’s strong,” Ricky said.

Only Kelly didn’t say a word. She was lost in her own thoughts, wondering what the next move would be.

“Kelly,” Matt said, “are you all right?” She didn’t answer.

“Kelly, are you there?” Tiffany asked. Still no answer.

“Kelly!” Ricky shouted.

Kelly stopped walking, and turned around. “What was that guy’s problem?” she finally said.

“Welcome back to the land of the conscious,” Matt said. “As for your question, I have no idea why he was like that.”

“Let’s forget what Mr. Dorn is,” Ricky said. “What about us? Where can we play?”

“I’m open to suggestions,” Kelly said.

“But how can we play if not at The P*lace?” Matt asked.

They all let that question hang in the air. No P*lace, no Kids Incorporated? The two had been synonymous in all those years that the original band played there. That was one question no one wanted to answer right now.

“So now what do we do?” asked Matt. “Who can help us?”

There was silence amongst the four of them. Then, someone else answered, “How about me?”

The four of them looked over at who was talking. A man approached them. He was wearing glasses, a dress shirt and pants, held up by suspenders and sporting a tie. It was the same man who had been at their jam session. And it was those same words he introduced himself to the original Kids Incorporated many years ago.

“Who are you?” Tiffany asked. But Matt and Ricky knew who he was.

“Ryan Lambert, Daily News.”

They all just looked at him at first. Then Kelly said suddenly, “You’re Ryan!”

“I just said that.”

“No, Ryan as in…Ryan! You were in Kids Incorporated a long time ago.”

“I know. A long time ago, being the key words.”

“You were at our jam session the other day,” Ricky said.

“I was. You kids sounded great.”

“Thanks,” Kelly said. “You know, my mom had a thing for you when she saw you play.”

Ryan kind of blushed. “Well, a lot of girls did. Some still do. I have a band on the side.”

“Does your wife mind?” Tiffany asked.

“I'm not married.”

Tiffany’s eyebrows raised. “Really?”

“So, what’s going on that has you all bummed?” Ryan asked. Kelly answered by telling him what had just transpired at The P*lace between them and Harold Dorn.

“Really?” Ryan said. “So, he put Junior in charge?”

“Huh?” the Kids wondered aloud.

“You met Harold Dorn junior,” Ryan pointed out. “Harold Dorn senior is helping redevelop the area. I wonder why he put his son in charge of The P*lace.”

“He won’t call it that,” Kelly said. “He insisted on calling it The Palace.”

“Is that so?” 

"He looked at us as if we were the plague," said Matt.

Ryan said, "Hmmm. This doesn't sound right. I've heard talk from people in the neighborhood that they wanted The P*lace the way it was when it reopens. And that's what Harold Dorn senior wanted as well. I wonder why junior doesn't."

"He's a dipwad," Tiffany grumbled.

"Let me get to the bottom of this," Ryan said. "I'll let you know what's going on."

"What about us?" Kelly asked.

"Keep playing, keep rehearsing. You guys are going to play, no matter what. It's just a matter of where. And I'm going to make sure it's at The P*lace."

Ryan asked them for a phone number where he could reach them later on; Kelly and Matt gave him their numbers. The kids watched as Ryan headed down the street. "I like that guy," Matt said. "Sounds like he can get the job done."

"I agree," Ricky said. "We need someone on our side."

Kelly sighed. "Now I know why mom liked him," she said.

Tiffany looked at Kelly. "Really?"

***************************************************

Ryan sat down at his desk at the Daily News building. It was like every reporters desk at a newspaper – cluttered with papers and memos, and piles of files that should’ve been filed.

It also had some momentos of his past, pinned up on his cubicle wall. There was a photo of him and Katerina, a Russian ballerina, just a couple of years after the Berlin Wall came down, backstage after a performance by a Russian ballet in Los Angeles. Another photo of him and his grandmother, a couple of months before she passed away in the year 2000. And there was a backstage photo of him and his friend Stacy, after her show in San Francisco.

He looked up a business number for Harold Dorn Jr., and called him up.

“Hi, this is Ryan Lambert from the Daily News. I’d like to ask a few questions about The Palace property.”

“Such as?” By the sound of Harold Dorn junior's voice, he didn't sound to pleased to be the other end of this call.

“What are your plans for The Palace and its place in the redevelopment of the area?”

Harold Dorn Jr. replied, “I plan to make it a nightclub for adults that will help bring back business to the area and further redevelopment of this part of the city.”

“Really? You have no plans to restore it to being The P*lace. Some businesses in the area were under the impression that’s what the plan was.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“Is that so?”

“Look, Lambert. I know what the building means to you. I know all about the history of The Palace, and that kiddie band that you were a part of a long time ago. I also saw you talking to those brats earlier this afternoon – “

Brats? That was a term he had not heard in a while. Sounded like Tiffany was right. Harold Dorn Junior was a – 

“ – and I have no intention of changing my position. I am managing The Palace, and no kids are coming inside whatsoever. That’s all I have to say on the subject. Good bye!”

The line went dead. Ryan thought of a few words he could add to Tiffany’s description of Harold junior, none of them pretty, all of them vile. Ryan had talked to junior. Now he was going to talk to senior. He dialed up Lynch/Biller Properties, the group that held the title on The Palace.

“I’d like to speak with Harold Dorn senior about The Palace property,” he said to the secretary on the other end.

“Mr. Dorn isn’t in right now,” the secretary said. “But maybe one of his associates can help you. He’s the primary owner of the property. Please hold.”

Thirty seconds later, the line clicked in. 

“Hello, this is Ryan Lambert from the Daily News. I’d like to ask you about The Palace property. I wonder if you knew that – “

“Wait! Ryan, is that really you?” The voice on the other end sounded very familiar, one he hadn’t heard in over twenty years.

“Who’s this?” Ryan asked.

He said his name. Ryan was shocked, to say the least. 

“You own The Palace? I mean, _you now own The P*lace?!”_


	8. Chapter 8

EIGHT

Meanwhile, Kelly had invited the rest of the band over to her house later that afternoon. They weren’t there to rehearse, just a get together to shoot the bull and get to know each other a little more, and talk about the band whose name they may have just inherited.

“Just how much do you know about this Kids Incorporated?” Ricky asked Kelly.

“Only what I have in my mom’s scrapbook,” she replied, as she put down the heavy book down on the coffee table. 

“Looks like a lot,” Tiffany said. 

“It’s mostly photos, and some newspaper clippings,” Kelly said. “From what my mom told me, they were very popular all over southern California.” She opened the scrapbook, as if it was a time portal to the past.

“Find a picture of Mr. Ford and his jheri curls,” said Kenny.

The first pages of the book were of the original lineup. There were the five of them, on a staircase, with their backup musicians and dancers behind them.

“That’s Gloria, Mickey, Renee, The Kid, and Stacy,” Kelly pointed out.

“Weren’t Renee and Stacy sisters?” asked Debbie. Kelly nodded yes.

“And isn’t Stacy that big time singer they call The Duchess?” Tiffany asked.

“One in the same,” Kelly replied. “I have her first CD.”

“What’s The Kid’s real name?” Ricky asked. “I think I saw him in concert once.”

“His name is Rahsaan. Where’d you see him?”

“He was part of a USO tour group that came by the bases in Germany. I wonder why he didn’t like his real name?"

“I’ve seen Gloria on TV in one of those festival concerts like Glastonbury or Edinburgh,” Kelly said. She turned a couple of pages, where there was a news story about The P*lace being named a historical landmark by the courts, and a flyer for a street carnival to benefit homeless animals.

“Did everyone dress like that in the eighties?” Matt remarked, seeing some of the denim outfits the band was wearing.

“Apparently, Levi’s made a lot money that decade,” Tiffany added.

Kelly turned a couple of more pages. “This is the band’s lineup when Ryan joined,” she pointed out. The band – Ryan, Gloria, The Kid, Renee, and Stacy – were sitting down on the stage steps with their musicians and dancers behind them, all in front of the neon sign of their name.

“Check out his biker jacket,” Tiffany said.

“Wait a minute,” their drummer Toby said, pointing at one of the kids in front of the neon sign. “That kid there, I think he’s the wrestling coach at the high school.”

Kelly looked at the one in question. “That’s Mario,” she said. “He was their original drummer.”

“And this girl, Gina,” Kimmie pointed out, “I think she runs that Italian restaurant a few blocks away from the Palace. The one with all the Golden State Warriors memorabilia on the walls.”

“That place must have gone bonkers when the Warriors won the title,” Ricky said.

“Especially here in Laker land,” Tiffany said.

A couple of more pages turned, as Kelly came upon a flyer that said ‘WIN A DATE WITH RENEE!’

“What was this all about?” asked Ricky.

“My dad said it was some kind of raffle that got out of hand,” Kelly said. “He’s not sure who won though. There was some rumor that it was some guy from a TV show.”

She turned the page to show a new lineup. It was Ryan, Renee, The Kid, Stacy, Richie, and Connie.

“Wait!” Molly exclaimed. “That’s my mom’s friend, Connie!”

“She is?”

“She’s a lawyer here in town,” Molly explained. “My mom and her have known each other for the longest time.”

Matt pointed at one of the Kids in the photo. “Kelly, didn’t you tell me this guy used to be their drummer?”

“He was,” Kelly replied. “Now that I think of it, I also think he’s the one who staged the raffle.”

“Hey Toby,” Matt said, “your drum kit used to be owned by a guy with the last name of Shoff. I think that’s him.” 

“Really?” Toby said. “If I ever meet him, I’ll ask him.”

“While you’re at it,” Tiffany added, “ask him what made him raffle off on his band mates.”

A couple of more pages turned and the lineup changed again. The lineup was Ryan, Stacy, Connie, Richie, Kenny, and Devyn.

“Maybe Mr. Ford was right,” Matt said. “He did have a shiny afro.”

“Not much of one,” Ricky said. “Maybe the jheri curls hadn’t grown out yet.”

“Erik,” Kelly said, “I saw the coffeehouse was for sale when I was there. The name of the realtor was Devyn. Could it be the same person?”

“I think she was actually in there once,” Erik recalled. “Maybe it was her. I think she actually owned a piece of it, as a tax write off kind of thing.”

“Best way to make money if you can’t make money,” Matt said. “Tax write offs.”

There was a picture of the band in that lineup performing on stage with a kid in a wheelchair, and a flyer for a school election, proclaiming “Richie For President.”

“Did Richie raffle off votes as well?” Ricky asked.

Kelly came upon the next page. “This is the final year where Stacy was a member of the band,” she said. “Ryan had left by now.” The lineup here was Stacy, Richie, Kenny, Devyn, and Robin.

There was also a picture of the then fourteen-year old Stacy, performing on stage at The P*lace.

“She’s definitely a child of the eighties,” Tiffany remarked. “Look at how big her hair was.”

“Hair spray companies were raking in the bucks back then,” Debbie added.

The scrapbook was near the end. “My mom doesn’t have much after Stacy left,” Kelly said. “She went off to England about then for a year. She did manage to get a couple of more photos but not much else.”

She showed them photos of the 1991 lineup – Robin, Kenny, Eric, Ana, and Haylie – and of the following year, 1992 – Kenny, Ana, Haylie, Jared, and Nicole. There was a couple of momentos from those years – a newspaper story about how the band helped in the cleanup of a nearby lake, an ad about the band making a TV appearance, a school flyer announcing “Jared For President”, and another flyer about a PTA show featuring the band.

The last photo was of the band’s final lineup – Ana, Haylie, Nicole, Charlie, and Anthony – along with their backup musicians and dancers from 1994. There was also a news clipping with the headline: FIRE AT PALACE THEATRE.

The story detailed how the fire damaged the landmark theatre, which was temporarily closed for renovation. The P*lace had been up since the 1920’s, and its history of performers, from big bands in the 1940’s, to the beginning of rock and roll in the 1950’s, its rebirth in the 1980’s, when it became a teen hangout when a group of kids formed a rock band that performed their regularly, and was named a historical landmark.

“That was in 1994,” Kelly said. “They rebuilt The Palace. Then they started renovating it again this year.”

“And somehow it wound up in the hands of a total douche,” Tiffany added. “What does that guy have against kids anyway?”

Kelly’s cell phone rang. She answered quickly, “Hello?”

“Hi Kelly, this is Ryan. Come by The P*lace tomorrow. Bring your friends.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“I just talked to the owner. He wants Kids Incorporated back at The P*lace. Just like it was when he was there.”


	9. Chapter 9

NINE

Harold Dorn Jr. looked at the marquee its bright red cursive glory. THE PALACE.

“Make sure the lights stay on in all the letters,” he demanded to the construction workers outside. “Especially the first ‘a.’ This is ‘The Palace.’”

Mr. Dorn walked into the Palace through the front doors. All the work on the inside was done, aside from sawdust on the floors, and painting and decorating to be done on the walls. Everything was fine.

He was a few feet in when the lights came on. “Hello Mr. Dorn,” someone said.

Harold junior looked around as he got his eyes adjusted. In front of him were four kids – Kelly, Matt, Tiffany, and Ricky – and a former Kid – Ryan. They were all there to see him, and at the same time, not too happy to see him.

“What are you kids doing here?” he said angrily.

“And hello to you too,” Tiffany said. “Nice day we’re having, don’t you think?”

“We’re here to talk,” Ryan said to Dorn.

“You already did,” Dorn said. “Now leave.”

“Talk some more,” Ryan said back. “We want to know why –“

“I said leave!” Dorn snapped.

“Son, I suggest you listen to the man,” someone else said. 

Dorn looked to the side. There was an older man approaching him. “Your place in the will depends on it,” Harold Dorn senior said.

Junior swallowed hard. Nothing like being cut out of the will to keep a man honest. And quiet, if his livelihood depended on it.

“We want to know why you don’t want Kids Incorporated to play here at The P*lace,” Ryan said.

“PALACE!” Harold insisted. “It’s THE PALACE!”

“Fine, call it what you want,” Kelly said. “We just want to know why.”

“I am running The Palace,” Harold said, “and I am running it as I see fit. It’s going to be a nightclub, not some day care center for kids who can’t sing.”

“Well excuse me, Simon Cowell,” Tiffany said, her temper rising. “At least we can sing better than you.”

“’It’s my party, and I’ll be greedy if I want to.’ Is that it?” said Ricky, quoting an old song.

“That’s not what the owner wanted,” Ryan said.

“Well, he’s not here,” Harold said.

Then another person said, “I am now.”

Everyone in the room looked at the person who said it. Like Harold’s father, the man seemingly came out of nowhere, but there he was, joining the discussion. He was in his fifties, but he still had some of his youthfulness on his face, and his hair was still blond.

“Who the hell are you?” Harold demanded.

“My name is Jeff Riley.”

Kelly’s ears perked up. Riley? _That_ Riley? 

“Who’s he?” Ricky asked.

“Is that who I think it is?” Matt asked.

Harold junior looked at Riley, and tactlessly said, “Oh, I know who you are. You’re the dropout who used to run things here.” 

Riley replied, “Yes, you’re right. I am the dropout who used to run things here.” He walked right up to Harold Junior. “And you should also know that I eventually got my GED, went to college, graduated with a business degree, and started working with a real estate company before I went out on my own. I bought property in the area, including this one, with the help of your father.” He was now leaning into Harold’s face. “And since it’s my name on the title to this place, that technically makes me _your boss.”_

“Yep, that Riley,” Kelly said to herself.

Harold junior’s spot in the will was looking tenuous at best.

“Now, why don’t you tell me why you don’t want them playing here,” Riley said.

“I don’t need a reason!” Harold said defiantly. “It’s my decision on how to run things here.”

“What’s the matter, don’t you like music?” Matt asked snidely.

“Maybe he doesn’t like kids,” said Tiffany.

Harold looked away in disgust.

“Wait a minute,” his father said. “Is this about that girl?”

“What girl?” asked Kelly.

“Some girl he knew in school,” Mr. Dorn said. “I think her name was Jennifer. He had it bad for her. But she wanted nothing to do with him. She went out with some guy named –“ His face suddenly lit up. “Jennifer went out with a guitar player.”

“In Kids Incorporated,” Ryan concluded. “I think his name was Charlie. I met him around the time The P*lace burned down. Him and Jennifer were real tight.”

The kids all looked at Harold with a modem of scorn. His father looked at him disapprovingly, as did Riley.

“Let me get this straight,” Riley said. “Your whole attitude problem is because some girl chose another guy over you?”

“And you don’t want anything to do with Kids Incorporated because that someone was in the band?” Kelly added.

Tiffany asked, “Have you ever heard of the term, ‘Get over it’?”

“I don’t think he did,” Mr. Dorn said. “Especially when they got married.”

Harold looked like he was doing a slow burn. Finally he said, “Okay, so what? I’m still in charge here. And what I say goes. And I say I’m not letting you kids in here.”

Riley got back in Harold’s face. “And you obviously forgot that I’m in charge of this whole project, and what I say goes. And I say you can go!”

“Come again?”

“You’re fired!”

“WHAT!?” exclaimed Harold. 

“You heard me,” Riley said. “You’re fired!”

Junior looked over to Senior. "Dad!"

"You heard him," Mr. Dorn said. "You only have yourself to blame. All you had to do was listen to Mr. Riley. But you had go behind his back and mine."

"Looks like you're out of the will," Ryan said.

Harold looked like he was about to explode in anger. But instead, he turned and headed for the exit.

"Buh-bye," Tiffany said, as Harold stormed out the doors.

The new Kids all looked at each other. “Did we win?” asked Matt.

“Looks like you guys are playing here after all,” Ryan said.

“That’s the way it’s supposed to be,” added Riley. 

Kelly, Matt, Tiffany, and Ricky started jumping up and down in celebration, as Ryan shook Riley and Mr. Dorn’s hands.

It wasn’t really official, but their band was going to play at The Palace…. or as they preferred, The P*lace.


	10. Chapter 10

TEN

With their place at The P*lace (or The Palace, according to the marquee) secured, the new Kids Incorporated threw themselves into rehearsals. They took their instruments and their equipment over to the garage just a few doors down from The P*lace, and set up inside. 

The garage was the rehearsal place for the original Kids through the years. Owned by the uncle of Rahsaan a.k.a The Kid, it was abandoned after the fire at The P*lace. It was sold, and went through numerous owners, before it was bought by Riley with Mr. Dorn senior’s help. It was cleared up and kept that way, on the chance a certain band made up of kids needed it again.

Over the next few days, rock music emanated from the garage, as the finishing touches were put on and inside The Palace. Ryan and Kenny passed by the garage, hearing the music, on their way to The Palace.

“Brings back memories, doesn’t it?” Ryan asked Kenny.

“Yes it does,” Kenny replied. “Remember when we couldn’t wait to grow up?”

“Yeah, what were we thinking?”

The two looked up at the marquee as they approached The Palace. The neon was already lit up, illuminating all letters of the words THE PALACE.

“We have a pool in the office on when the ‘a’ will burn out,” Ryan said to Kenny.

They were headed to The Palace after Riley called them to show them what was going on. Though Ryan was inside the building when Riley fired Harold Dorn Jr., he hadn’t really gotten a good look around. Now him, along with Kenny, would see the inside of the new Palace, or P*lace.

They entered and looked around. 

“Whoa,” they both said. It wasn’t exactly the same when they were in Kids Incorporated, but they can see it was just as good.

The stage was in the same place as it always had been. The lighting had illuminated it to perfection, with the main spotlight shining down on center stage.

But the counter had been moved. Before, the counter was on the left as the customers entered. Now, in the remodel, the counter was off to the right, equipped with soda fountains behind them. Other than the counter moving from the left to the right of the building, pretty much everything had stayed the same.

Standing next to the counter was Riley, talking to someone behind the counter. He was dark haired, his hair cut close, dark eyed, and stood about six feet tall. He stopped as soon as he saw Ryan and Kenny.

“Well guys, what do you think?” Riley asked.

It took a while for Ryan and Kenny to get their jaws off the floor. “Looks great,” Kenny finally said. 

“I agree,” Ryan added. He looked at the guy behind the counter. “Who’s your friend?”

Riley replied, “This is Joe Rogers. He’s going to be running The P*lace.”

Ryan and Kenny shook his hand. “Good to meet you,” Ryan said.

“Thanks,” Joe said. “Welcome to my new neighborhood.”

Everyone groaned at the joke. Riley shook his head, knowing that he made a good choice.

“Kinda expected that,” he said, “considering my name.”

“So, how did Riley come to hire you?” asked Ryan. 

“Friend of a friend told me that Riley was looking for someone to run this place,” Joe replied. “I asked him, and he was impressed.”

“Impressed? By what?” asked Kenny.

“He knows how to run a tight ship,” Riley said.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Joe said. He reached inside his collar and pulled out a set of dog tags. “I served five years in the U.S. Navy, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Ryan said. “That’s more than me and Kenny put together. Thanks for your service.”

“In a way, I’ll still be serving,” Joe said. “Except this time, it will be shakes, malts, and frappes.”

“Frappes?” asked Ryan.

“Going with the changes,” Joe said. He produced a frappuccino drink in a glass. “It’s not Starbucks, but it’s pretty good.”

Kenny took a sip from the glass. “That’s pretty good. He’s hired.”

Ryan looked around and saw the far wall. “What’s up there?” Him, Kenny, and Riley, all walked over to the wall, where a line of framed eight by ten photos were hanging.  
“That’s the Wall Of Fame,” Riley pointed out. 

“That’s us!” Kenny exclaimed. He was right. It was them, Kids incorporated, in all their incarnations through their years at The P*lace. Nine photos in a row, with the year on above the frame. Ryan was in the second, third, fourth, and fifth photos; Kenny was in the fifth photo along with Ryan. Kenny was also part of the sixth, seventh, and eighth photos.

“This is a great addition,” said Ryan. “Where did you get all these?”

“Ask her,” Joe said. He gestured toward a blonde haired woman coming towards them. Ryan didn’t know her that well, but Kenny did, ever since she was eleven years old when she first started singing with the band.

“Haylie!” 

“Kenny!” The two former band members embraced. “It’s been a while!”

“I know!” she said. They all shook hands; Ryan only knew Haylie briefly, interviewing her after the Palace fire many years ago. “It’s great to see you again.” 

“Where did you get all those photos?” Riley asked.

“I’ve had a few of them over the years,” Haylie said. “You know, me and the girls were holding some of the memorabilia from The P*lace renovation when the fire happened. When Nicole and Ana went off to college, most of the stuff came to me. A couple of the photos I got from the older brothers and sisters of friends who knew Ryan and the others in the early days.” She further explained that she and her husband Casey made enlarged copies in high definition and framed them over the past few months. 

“When I heard that The P*lace was being re-opened,” she said, “I met with Riley and offered to help with some of the redecoration.”

“Have you told the others about The P*lace?” Kenny asked.

“I told them,” Haylie replied. “They’re all pretty excited to hear about this. So, these kids, are they going to be the new Kids Incorporated?”

Ryan and Kenny looked at each other. “I wouldn’t mind,” Ryan said.

“You know, I took care some of those kids when I worked at the day care center,” Haylie said. 

“I bet they were a handful,” Kenny said. 

“A little,” Haylie replied. “Kelly was always bouncing around, trying to sing. Matt was making noise on a toy guitar. And the other girl, Tiffany, she was always reaching for the cookie jar.”

“They were a handful,” Ryan said.

“Now that I think about it, there was this other girl,” Haylie said. “She was always quiet, kind of shy. She always sat by herself, kind of afraid to be with the other kids. I remember her because her mom told me that she was in Kids Incorporated when she was younger.”

“I think I know who you’re talking about,” Ryan said.

The doors to The P*lace opened and two people walked in. “Hi there,” they said. One was a woman, with short dark hair, Latina features, and in her forties. The man was clean cut, with dark brown hair.

“Hi there,” Ryan said back. 

“So where’s this band that wants to be the new Kids Incorporated?” the woman asked.

“I’ll take you to them.”

***********************

Ryan entered the garage amid the sounds of rock and roll. He saw the band jamming away, their music sounding tight. When the music stopped, he applauded.

“You guys sound great,” he said to them.

“Thanks,” Kelly said.

“There’s a couple of people I want you to meet,” Ryan said. Two people who had entered The P*lace had accompanied Ryan to the garage. 

Ryan introduced them. “This is Gloria and Mickey,” he said. “The founding members of the original Kids Incorporated.”

The band said hi to them, as Ryan introduced the original Kids to the new Kids.

“So, it’s okay with you that we’re the new Kids Incorporated?” Matt asked.

“We don’t mind,” Mickey said. “We want you to carry on what we started.”

“No copyright infringement?” asked Ricky.

“We’re passing on the name,” Gloria said.

“Starting this Friday,” Ryan said. “That’s when The P*lace reopens.”

Kelly, Matt, Tiffany, and Ricky all looked at each other, then at their backup musicians and dancers. Ryan could tell by their looks on their faces that he knew the answer. 

Kelly said, “We’re ready.”


	11. Chapter 11

ELEVEN

Friday night arrived, and by five o’clock, so did the crowd at The P*lace.

The audience, a majority of which were kids – no surprise there – were at The P*lace, had been waiting outside the doors since school let out for the day. The students headed right for The P*lace, and some time later, some of their parents, fans of the original Kids Incorporated, had joined them.

A newspaper story heralded the return of Kids Incorporated and The P*lace the day before, courtesy of Ryan. In the story, he had interviewed Riley and Joe Rogers about the reopening, and of course, the four new Kids, though he kept their last names out of the story out of respect for privacy. But privacy kind of went by the wayside, since the kids at school already knew who they were.

A couple of minutes before five o’clock, the doors opened to The P*lace, and the crowd streamed in, snapping up all the seats they could. Soon, orders for sodas, milkshakes and frappuccinos were coming, and Joe, and the wait staff he had hired for the occasion, was filling them as fast as they could.

Meanwhile, the Kids were ready in the dressing room. They were already decked out in their show jackets, blue with their names on the sleeves. Tiffany went out to take a peek at the gathering audience.

“How does it look out there?” Ricky asked.

“Packed,” Tiffany replied. 

Matt looked around. “Is anyone here nervous?” For some reason, they all looked at Kelly. 

“Why is everyone looking at me?” she asked. Though she didn’t look it, Kelly was definitely nervous. It just seemed like yesterday that she posed a harmless question: What if we got a band together? It wasn’t the same as, Do you want to start a fantasy football league? Just some weeks ago, it seemed like a pipe dream. But now the dream was about to come true.

“Aren’t you nervous?” Matt asked.

Kelly finally said, “I am. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.”

“Well, Kelly, it’s about to come true,” Tiffany said. “We’re about to go on stage.”

“I know. I can’t believe this is happening.” Kelly took a deep breath and exhaled. “I hope I’m ready for this.”

“So do we,” Matt said, clutching his guitar.

The dressing room door opened. “Are you ready?” Joe asked.

They all nodded.

“Let’s go!”

The four of them gathered around and put their hands together. “Ready?” asked Kelly.

“READY!”

It was time to rock…..

*********************

Up on stage, their backups – Toby on drums, Molly on keyboards, Erik on bass guitar, and their dancers Debbie and Kimmie – were already in place, when Joe Rogers came out and took hold of a microphone.

“Boys and girls, kids of all ages,” he announced, “welcome back to The P*lace!” The crowd cheered.

He continued, “It’s been a while since this place has been open. But good things come to those who wait, and we’ve waited long enough! A long time ago, The P*lace rocked to the best band in all the land, and that band was made up of kids just like you!” More cheers. “Those kids like Gloria, Mickey, Ryan, Kenny, and Haylie” – Joe pointed them out in the crowd – “have all grown up, but they’ve waited for this moment just like you.”

The crowd applauded again. “There’s a new generation of kids, and they’re here to rock this place like it did back in the day! So without further ado, here they are.… the new …. KIDS INCORPORATED!”

The lights dimmed as Joe exited the stage. On to the stage came Kelly, Matt, Tiffany, and Ricky, amid the prelude introductory music and audience cheers.

“Are you ready to rock!” Kelly called out. The audience cheered. 

The stage was lit up and the show began. The first song would be Matt’s. He immediately launched into a guitar riff leading into Maroon 5’s “Makes Me Wonder.” 

Ryan was in the crowd, amidst the cheers, as he watched the band on stage. As he did, he flashed back to his youth, remembering how it was for him being on the stage for the first time, listening to the cheers as he played his guitar.

He wasn’t the only one flashing back. Kenny thought about his first time on the stage, when he was alongside Devyn. So did Haylie, when she came aboard after encouragement from Stacy when she was about to leave.

Of course, there was Gloria and Mickey, recalling the first time they were together on stage with the original Kids Incorporated, with all their friends and classmates in the crowd after school and on weekends. It was a different time, yet tonight, it was all the same.

There was a tap on Ryan’s shoulder. He turned around….and was face to face with a couple of familiar faces.

“Hi Ryan,” they said among the din of applause. Immediately, he recognized them. So did Gloria and Mickey. They all quickly said hi to each other, but there would be time for catching up later, there was a show on stage.

After Matt was done, it was Tiffany’s turn to take center stage. She sang Adele’s “Rumor Has It” as her vocals mesmerized the crowd. So what if she was bigger than life, much less most girls in school? She had the pipes and the song proved it, as evidenced by the cheers.

It was Ricky’s turn now. For someone who hadn’t been living in the U.S. for a while, he quickly got accustomed to the stage and the audience got quickly accustomed to him. Singing “Treasure” by Bruno Mars, it was obvious that he had the stage presence to carry it off, and the cheers proved it.

Now it was Kelly’s time in the spotlight. All of this had been because of her, and now it was looking to pay off. She sang Kelly Clarkson’s “Miss Independent”, as the crowd went wild as much as they did for her friends.

When the song was over, the audience went wild with approval. Kelly, Matt, Tiffany, and Ricky, stepped forward and acknowledged the cheers.

“Thank you!” Kelly said into her microphone to the crowd.

Matt spoke up. “You know, a few weeks ago, this seemed like some crazy dream, no one thought we could pull off, even us.”

“But we did!” Tiffany said next. “We don’t know how we did it, but we did!”

“It took a lot of hard work, and a lot of luck, but here we are!” Ricky said.

“And as long as there are kids like you and kids like us, we’re going to play as long as we can,” Kelly said. That drew a louder cheer from the crowd. “Once again, thank you all!” Kelly said. “How about a song some of you haven’t heard in a while!”

The band started up again. It was a familiar tune, one that the crowd going, then it went a notch higher as each of their backups did a solo – first Toby on drums, Erik on bass, Molly on the keyboards, followed by a guitar solo by Matt, and some showy dances moves by Debbie and Kimmie. 

It took a while but Gloria, Mickey, and the people who were standing with him recognized the song. 

_“Everybody look around hear the sound/Something special’s gonna come your way….”_


	12. Chapter 12

TWELVE

It was around eight o’clock as the last of the audience left The P*lace. The new Kids Incorporated, for all intent and purposes, brought the house down. The show was a big success, and made official the return of the band, but also The P*lace.

The Kids had changed back into their street clothes and walked out of the dressing rooms, still flying high after their premiere.

They walked out through the stage and into the seating area of The Place. Some of the lights were still on inside. Ryan was out there as well.

“Great show,” he said.

“Thanks,” Kelly said. 

“The first of many.”

“There’ll be more,” Ricky promised.

“Buy a newspaper tomorrow morning,” Ryan suggested. “You’ll be on the front page.”

“Will do,” Tiffany said.

“Hey, there’s some people here who want to see you.” Ryan stepped aside. The Kids saw four people standing close by, all with beaming smiles on their faces. Two they already knew, the other two who were familiar.

“You already know Gloria and Mickey,” Ryan said. “This is Renee and Rahsaan, the other original members.” 

The current Kids shook hands with Renee and Rahsaan.

“You were all great up there,” Gloria said.

“Brought back some great times for us when we were up on that stage,” said Rahsaan.

“Thanks,” Matt said.

“You were all awesome,” Mickey added.

“Thank you, I’ll be here all week,” Ricky said, somewhat preening.

Renee looked over to Rahsaan. “Sound familiar?” 

“Gotta have someone like me up there,” Rahsaan joked.

“Hey wait a minute,” Kelly said. “Where’s your sister?” Everyone looked at Renee.

“Stacy wanted to be here,” she said. “But she couldn’t get away from her tour. She was in London for her shows at The O2. Plus she was meeting Kate.”

“The Duchess meets another Duchess,” Matt quipped.

“I did take some video,” Renee said, “and sent it to her. Plus I put it on Facebook already. I was also at the school some weeks back when you guys were first rehearsing.”

“You were?” asked Kelly.

“My classes were done for the day. I came down on a whim, met Kenny, and he told me what you kids were doing.”

“Ryan also told us what that dim bulb Harold Dorn was trying to do,” Mickey added.

“And all over a girl,” added Tiffany.

“You think we’ve heard the last of him?” asked Matt.

“I heard dear old dad sent him off to New York to oversee a reconstruction project,” Ryan replied. “He won’t be back for a while.”

“Good riddance,” Tiffany said. “The guy was a –“

“Tiff!” the new Kids interjected.

“Does that sound familiar?" Rahsaan said to Renee.

“A girl after my own heart,” Renee said back.

“I can’t believe Riley owns The P*lace now,” Gloria said.

“It’s because of him and Joe that we can play here,” Kelly said.

Gloria said, “You know, the best time of our lives was when we were on that stage, singing and dancing up there. It was the best fun we’ve ever had.”

“There were times, when we were up there, it was like a dream,” Mickey said. “But it was a dream come true.”

“Now you guys are going to have the time of your life up there,” Rahsaan added. 

“It won’t always be easy,” Renee said. “You’ll have some tough times, but all in all, you’re going to have fun doing this.”

“We started all this so many years ago, and lots of kids have been part of Kids Incorporated,” said Gloria. “We’re just so happy to see you guys carry on the tradition.”

The new Kids smiled upon hearing that.

“Thanks Gloria,” Kelly said. “It means a lot.” And it did.

“So, will we be seeing you around?” Matt asked.

“We’ll come out when we can,” Mickey said. “We all have lives now. I’m scouting some new bands for the record company I work for.”

“I start my new concert tour next week in Miami,” Gloria said.

“I have some shows in Vegas coming up,” Rahsaan said.

“My teaching schedule is full,” Renee said. “Plus, me and my husband Jules are headed to Europe for a vacation when the semester is over.”

“I’ll keep you guys informed,” Ryan said to the original Kids. “I’ll come by once in a while.”

The new Kids and the original Kids talked a little bit more, as the originals shared stories about the good ol’ days, like meeting Renee’s cousin Samantha, Riley’s inventions and his cousins, adversaries like Gabriella Von Bron and Brendan Roberts, their friends like Luanna, Mbala, and Katerina, and the new Kids got the whole story on the time their drummer Richie tried to raffle off Renee. 

Soon, they all parted ways from The Palace, as the originals went back to their lives, and the new Kids went home, with another show waiting tomorrow. Joe Rogers locked up the building.

“See ya around,” Joe said to the new Kids.

“See you too,” Kelly said, as her and friends started walking down the street. Then she stopped and looked back at the marquee. She smiled and resumed walking. That’s when they all heard a loud buzz, followed by a POP!

Kelly, Matt, Tiffany, and Ricky turned around again. The first ‘a’ in Palace had burned out. It now read THE P LACE. As it should.

The kids continued on their way. Tomorrow, was another show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is. What do you think?  
> You may have noticed there are only four main members. Don't worry, there will be a fifth member.


End file.
